


Eternal Rivals: I Will Never Not Hate Him

by Catrillion



Category: Rune Factory 4
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-01-16 20:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21277592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catrillion/pseuds/Catrillion
Summary: Another day, another fight between Doug and Dylas. This time though, after swapping jobs seems to have brought newfound understanding between the them, things may be on their way to changing for the better between the two. But a rivalry isn't over in a day, and the two are both sure of one thing: they will never not hate each other.Takes place immediately after the "Eternal Rivals" random event.





	1. Chapter 1

Granny Blossom's shop had been moderately busy all day- not greatly so, but enough that for the entire day Doug hadn’t had much of a moment to reflect on that last conversation he’d had with Dylas the day before. But now the only person in the shop was Clorica and he was pretty sure she’d fallen asleep standing up while choosing out the perfect curry powder. So for the first time since their last argument, he had his first moment's peace to run over what had been said in his mind.

They’d parted ways on an okay enough note, sharing little pleasantries and “see you laters,” but he’d been feeling a growing simmering annoyance all day. With each rotation of the hands on the clock hanging on the wall above his head, he was finding it exponentially harder to keep his frustration from showing. He supposed he’d done a well enough job, though, because granny had had no qualms leaving the shop in his care for the afternoon. She had only smiled, said “Okay Doug, I'll be back in a short while,” and gone to take care of business that he had been too wrapped up in his own head to ask about, let alone show any interest in.

With Clorica's quiet snores as the only sound in the store, he leaned down on his elbows behind the register and brought his hands down into his upturned palms.

“It isn’t like I started it anyway,” he grumbled to himself. That stupid horse would _say_ he had, but if Dylas just learned to mind his own business then the entire thing would have been avoided. Sure, he’d been wrong that working in the restaurant was an easy gig, but it wasn’t like he’d just gone up to Dylas and said it. That had been a private conversation between Doug and Vishnal only, so if Dylas was upset he had nobody to blame but himself.

And that thought led him right back to what was nagging him- what had been nagging him constantly through the entire day. He hadn’t started the fight and made a scene, and yet this morning while he was getting ready, he realized it. He had apologized for what he said and- again, he told himself in his head that really, he didn’t even have to have to have done jt since he wasn’t technically the one in the wrong- but he realized now that Dylas had never apologized himself!

Dylas, who started it and _always_ started it, had just brushed him off!

When the realization hit him, he pieced it together- Doug had gone to the restaurant and taken everything seriously, he thought there was a new understanding between the two, that maybe Dylas was going to get it through his thick skull that he was always the one in the wrong, but no. That damn horse hadn’t learned anything.

He sighed sharply and Clorica jolted awake. She had been mid-grab of the curry powder bag when she dozed off and as though not a moment had passed she closed her fingers around the bag and trotted over to his desk with a look of pleasant satisfaction on her face.

“Hey, find everything okay?” he said as though reciting a script.

“Yes, no trouble at all,” she cooed. “Frey and I are going to try and show Vishnal how to make curry!”

“Ha! Again? Good luck,” Doug said, standing up straight again.

“It's going to be different this time.” She looked up, a dreamy expression on her face. “We were wrong to try such a complicated curry before. This time it will be simple.”

“He’ll find a way to ruin it, no matter how idiot proof you make it.”

“Have more faith in Vishnal,” she said while clutching her hand into a loose fist. “I know he can do it this time.”

“Fifteen gold coins say you’re wrong,” he chuckled in response.

Before Clorica could respond, Leon pushed open the shop door behind her and started strolling toward them.

“Yo,” Doug greeted.

Leon didn’t answer right away, instead opting to stare at Doug for a long while as though he was reading a particularly wordy book and trying to discern the meaning. Finally he spoke. “I heard you had another blowout with your good friend.”

“Ugh!” He stepped back from the counter and threw up his hands. “What else is new. Horse-Face always is starting something.”

Clorica nodded sagely. “Vishnal was telling me about what happened. Is that why Dylas was working here the other day?”

“Probably making a mess of the store the whole time,” Doug grumbled.

Clearly pleased with himself, Leon now was donning a raised eyebrow and a lopsided smirk. “Cant have done any worse than you did at the restaurant.”

Doug did a double take. “What the hell? I did a great job!”

“You brought me the wrong entrée.”

“I did not and you know it,” Doug snapped while waving his hand dismissively. He turned to Clorica. “So let’s hear it- how big a disaster was Dylas?”

She shook her head, her eyes already starting to glaze over from drowsiness as she spoke. “He was fine. He grabbed a box for me…”

She trailed off, beginning yet again to drift away into a dream, but Doug wasn’t interested in hearing more anyway. Clorica wasn’t about to say a bad word about Dylas since she was too nice. He almost considered asking Leon if he’d stopped by the shop that day, but regardless of the truth Leon would definitely say Dylas had done a good job literally just because he knew saying so would get under Doug's skin.

Sure enough, Leon started leaving through cards on the wall beside them and with a voice feigning disinterest said offhandedly, “I stopped by too, you know. Are you at all curious what I saw?”

“Sorry, I’m a bit busy here,” Doug laughed back at him while taking the gold out of a still-fast asleep Clorica’s hand.

“Oh,” she peeped. A flash of confusion passed her face for a short moment but it was quickly replaced by a serene smile. “Thank you, Doug.”

“Let me know how class goes, and don’t forget our bet!” he called out after as she left the store, waving behind her.

Leon stepped up to the other side of the counter now. He paused and then his smile widened. “So?”

So? He scoffed. So he obviously wasn’t going to let this one go. “Look, it’s over. Nothing to see, nothing to talk about.”

“Well, it’s too bad I couldn’t be there to see the show. Hopefully I can catch the next one.” Leon turned on his heel and made his way back to the door.

“Hey! Are you even going to buy anything?”

Leon chuckled. “Why would I do that?” And with that, he pushed back open the door and left.

Doug clenched his fists almost involuntarily. One of these days he’d figure out how to keep Leon from pushing his buttons, but apparently today was not that day. Normally this would have just been a simple annoyance, but with what had happened with Dylas…

He turned and walked in a little circle behind the counter. It wasn’t even that big of a fight, all things considered. But he’d been stupid enough to think they had made progress afterward. Stupid enough to believe that Dylas _wanted_ to make some progress.

Now he felt like an absolute fool.


	2. Chapter 2

“Order _uuuup_,” Porcoline serenaded while dropping a pair of plates into Dylas's hand. He said nothing in response and took it to the table a couple of tourists were sat at.

“Seafood doria?”

“That’s mine,” the one man said, excitedly extending his hands to take the meal in the way somebody who’d eaten Porcoline's food before. His companion, another man near his same age, looked eager but it was the eagerness of somebody who’d heard tell of Porcoline’s cooking and still had never tried it. Dylas handed down his plate of croquettes with a quiet mumbled “careful, it’s hot,” and the first man looked at the man sitting across from him. “What did I tell you? Amazing stuff.”

They were eyeing each other with bright smiles, both clearly excited about the meal ahead of them. Dylas excused himself and went back behind the counter to wash another batch of dishes as they were dropped off my Margaret.

He’d been zoning out, his mind completely empty as he washed plate after plate, so when Margaret spoke beside him he was jolted. “Ohhh, aren’t they just the cutest?”

“… Who?”

“Those two,” she said, gesturing with a turn of her head toward the two men he’d brought food to just a few moments ago.

“Hm. They still haven’t touched their food. Is there a problem with it?”

Margaret laughed. “I think they’re more focused on something else,” she said knowingly.

But he didn’t quite feel like he understood. He kept waiting for her to explain, but when it became clear she wasn’t going to continue he muttered, “What is it?”

“Hmm?”

“What are they focused on?”

Margaret actually looked angry to hear him ask that. She scowled and slammed her hands onto her hips. “Dally!” He’d told her so many times not to call him that. “Can’t you tell they’re on a date?”

He furrowed his brow. How was he supposed to know that? He’d never thought he’d have a future, let alone a relationship. Why would he ever have had any interest in what a date was supposed to look like? He looked back at the two. They were just chatting, but now that Margaret had said something he realized that they did look starry-eyed. He’d thought they were excited about the food, but he’d been wrong. But well, he wasn’t surprised that he’d made that mistake. Food was one of the only things he felt he knew and understood. Dating? Not so much.

He turned back to the dishes. “Well they better eat soon. Their food is going to get cold.”

“Oh Dally,” Margaret said, shaking her head. “Don’t you care at all about romance?”

He looked up at her. “Not really.”

She sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Hey, what is that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind.” She pointed over at her lute leaning against the wall behind her. “I’ve got a song to play.”

“Yeah, alright.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but kept it to herself. He ignored her. This wasn’t that off from how she was acting these days anyway. She’d been gushing basically all day every day about somebody she’d ‘started seeing', as she’d explained it to Porcoline about a week before. She’d been talking about it constantly ever since, and as interesting as Porcoline seemed to find it all, he couldn’t find it in him to care. He had learned to just tune her out.  
This time though he found himself looking back at that couple. Thankfully they had started eating, but they still were much more engrossed in one another.  
So that was the problem. It was clear to him, especially now that he also considered the ridiculous fight he had once again had with Doug the day before, that there was another reason romance wasn’t of any interest to him- he could never imagine himself looking at somebody the way those people were looking at each other. He just did not do well with other people.

He sighed and looked back at a bowl on the counter beside him. Why did he have to get so worked up like he always did? Sure Doug was being a jerk, but he thought to himself how childish he’d been shouting at him like he did. And here in the restaurant! He found himself blushing. How embarrassing of him to make such a scene while on the job. Even just in terms of customer service, he needed to do better. He needed to be better.

Margaret was playing a sappy song, no doubt secretly dedicating it to the couple sitting and still only nibbling on their food. He wondered if he should ask her to help give him tips on controlling his temper, but then he thought against it. The way she was now, she’d just make it about something just as shmultzy as the song she was still strumming on her lute.

But Maybe Doug would want to help. No doubt he’d get a kick out of teaching Dylas something, and after all from the way they’d left things he was starting to wonder if they were… friends? He didn’t really know a thing about that either, but after all, this last fight- as ridiculous as it had been- it had ended differently then any fight they’d had before. They’d apologized to each other. That had never happened before. He would be the first to admit he wasn’t quite quick on the draw on these things, but that sure sounded like things were going to be different now.

He sighed to himself and nodded. He was going to push aside his pride and see if he could catch Doug after the restaurant closed and ask him for some help.

\---

After the dinner rush was over and the restaurant had been cleaned, Dylas excused himself and walked along the road to the general store. Some travelers passed him and made eye contact for a moment before poorly concealing their hushed whispers. “I recognize him. I was telling you about that scene at the restaurant, remember? That’s the guy!”

“Yikes. I'm glad I wasn’t there- woulda scared me silly.”

Dylas did his best to ignore them, reminding himself that he was moments away from making the first step towards never having a blow up like that again. He just hoped the shop would still be open.

He got his answer after pushing open the door, which was when he saw Blossom was there rearranging seed bags on the shelf. From the look of it, some wannabe farmer had come in, grabbed every seed bag they could carry, and then decided against their endeavor and simply shoved the seeds back wherever they would fit.

“Oh, hello, Dylas dear. I'm just closing up I'm afraid.”

He hesitated a moment before saying, “Here, I can help with that.” It wasn’t that this was heavy work, but he knew what it was like being on your feet all day and after all, Blossom was an older woman. Really this shouldn’t be her job… “Doug should be here helping you.”

Blossom stepped aside as Dylas took over the task. “Well thank you dear, but it’s quite all right. Doug wasn’t feeling well today and is upstairs resting.”

“Oh.”

“You really don’t have to do that, you know.”

“It’s fine.” But truth be told, if Doug was upstairs sick, then he had pretty much come by for no reason. He couldn’t really just leave her to close the shop all alone, though, so after another look over of the now re-arranged seeds, he added, “I can help close up. I still don’t know where everything goes, but just tell me what to do and I can-“

“Well now, what a kind offer! You really are a sweet boy.”

How this was 'sweet' was lost on him. He knew how much work went into this job now, so he’d have to be some kind of monster not to help, right? But then Blossom was a polite lady, so she probably felt she had to say something like that as thanks.

Closing didn’t take much longer- less than an hour- and they didn’t make any conversation other than Blossom directing him what to move and where.  
“Thank you so much Dylas,” Blossom trilled as he unloaded the last of the stock boxes. “You were a big help. I know you came here for something, so is there something I can give you as payment for your trouble?”

“That’s okay.” He hesitated. Blossom had told him Doug was sick, and if they were friends now- which admittedly he still wasn’t sure was the case- but if it was, he should probably say something, right? It didn’t quite feel right to express any sympathy for the dwarf, so he felt a twinge of red color his face from embarrassment when he said, “Tell Doug to… get better.”

“Oh, he will appreciate it, I'm sure. Thank you dear.”

Dylas excused himself and had to think of what to do with the rest of the evening. The sun was only just setting and the sky was a cascade of pink and orange. It had been a warm day, and with summer ending soon this might be one of the last truly warm days of the year. He shrugged. Grabbing his rod and heading down to the lake for some fishing didn’t seem a bad way to end the day.

The sky had gotten a bit darker by the time he’d swung back by the restaurant and made it to the lake on the other side of town. A slight nighttime breeze was kicking up. Dylas adjusted his coat. He shook out the tension in his shoulders and cast his line in the still water. He enjoyed the solitude for a while and actually snagged two char before the quiet was broken by the sounds of light footsteps approaching the lake. He turned to look and to his surprise saw it was Vishnal approaching- not a common visitor to this part of Selphia. His eyes were downcast and he had a tight frown donned on his flushed face. He had gotten only a few steps away from Dylas when he looked up and jolted with a tiny yelp. “Eep! Oh! Dylas! I didn't see you there, I…” He trailed off as he rang his hands.

“What's with you?”

His already pink cheeks went deep crimson and his shoulders prickled. “I don't want to talk about it.”

“Whatever.” Dylas turned away. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't a big deal. Vishnal was jumpy by nature and if he didn’t want to talk about it, then Dylas didn’t care.

Vishnal paced a bit, cooling his nerves, and then with an attempt at a relaxed voice asked, “How was working at the general store? I heard from Clorica you were amazing!”

“'Amazing,' huh?”

He clenched his fists in front of him triumphantly. “Yes!”

“I don't know about that. It was a bit tough, honestly.” He blushed. Admitting that was yet another thing he felt uncomfortable actually saying.

Vishnal, to Dylas’s surprise, seemed actually happy to hear him say it. “Really?” Dylas said nothing. It was already enough to just admit that out loud; he didn’t feel like elaborating. After a short while and one caught squid, Vishnal spoke again. “I heard you and

Doug both got a lot out of swapping jobs.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Doug must have spoken to him about it already. Of course Porcoline had told _him_ all about Doug’s spin at the restaurant; the day after their switch, after Doug apologized to him for what he’d said, Porcoline had told him all about Doug peeling potatoes and bringing meals to patrons and all of the other everyday tasks. Porcoline was prone to exaggeration, but Margaret didn’t argue with him when he claimed Doug had done “fabulously” the entire day. He had to admit, as much as he hated to, that it sounded like Doug had taken to it better than he had at the general store. On the one hand he wanted to ask Vishnal what Doug had said, find out for certain what exactly that apology made them now, but he wasn’t sure he was up to hearing more about how amazingly Doug had performed. So he just kept his mouth shut.

“That's great!” Vishnal beamed. He didn't seem aware that Dylas was currently deep in thought.

“So what happened back there anyway?” Anything to change the subject.

“Oh…” There was a long moment where he hesitated to say it. “It’s nothing, I just…” He trailed off again, but then suddenly inhaled sharply and struck what could only be described as a determined pose. “I just need to keep trying and getting better!”

He didn’t have any semblance of understanding of what that meant. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes! Princess believes in me!”

Oh, so this was some other romance thing. Vishnal hadn’t been subtle about his feelings for Frey, always staring at her doe-eyed and turning red as a beer when she walked in the room. Even Dylas, as unknowledgeable in these things as he was, had seen it. And his infatuation had only become more overt when the two got together that previous Spring. He should have guessed as much.

Vishnal continued, “Princess and Clorica have been trying to help me improve my cooking, as it's a necessary skill, and I'm not letting them down!”

He raised his eyebrows. “I always assumed you were a good cook.”

Vishnal laughed ashamedly, running his hand back through his hair. “Not quite. But! I'm going to get there soon!”

Dylas’s line tugged and he reeled in. It was almost an automatic movement; he could probably catch fish in his sleep by now. “It takes practice. I used to be a terrible cook, but Porcoline-“

“Oh! That’s right, I didn’t think of that! You are a great cook!”

“Heh. Thanks.” He pulled another char out of the surface of the water and, after some consideration, tossed it back in. He turned to reach into his bait box and this time it was his turn to be startled. Vishnal was so close he could feel his breath. “What the hell!”

Vishnal clasped his hands in front of himself. “Please, would you help me learn to cook?”

“_What_?”

“I know I'm terrible, but I promise I'm a hard worker and a good listener! And you were just saying how Porcoline has taught you so much, so-“

“So ask _him_ to teach you!”

“Oh no, Porcoline has so much important work to do, I couldn’t bother him on such a huge favor for me.”

“Hey! Are you saying I don’t?” Dylas snapped.

“Eep!” He went pale. “No, I’m sorry! That's not what I was trying to say! Your work is very important too!”

Dylas opened his mouth to argue, but stopped himself. “_I'm doing it all over again_,” he thought. He sighed and shook his head. He shoved his bait box back into his coat pocket, grabbed the bucket of fish- hardly even halfway full- and turned back toward Selphia Town square. He was so frustrated with himself that he didn’t think to say anything to Vishnal, who was now muttering “why did I have to say that” to himself with his face in his hands.

By the time Dylas got back to the restaurant the moon was high in the sky and the only sound being carried on the nighttime air was a chorus of crickets. He yanked open the door wordlessly and, with swirling thoughts of self loathing filling his head, went about putting his catches on ice in the fridge. What was wrong with him? Vishnal had only been asking for help, and he had to go and tell at him instead of-

“Dally, what’s wrong?”

Margaret had been in the room the entire time, of course, tuning her lute. She had even waved and greeted him when he walked in the door, but of course he had been so wrapped up in his own brain that he didn’t even hear her. And when he didn’t respond, no doubt also looking more than just a bit enraged, she must have assumed the worst and approached him.

It was a mixture of surprise and bad timing that led him to snap, “Nothing!” He caught himself and turned away. This time, in a much more measured voice, he mumbled, “I just have a lot on my mind. That’s all.”

She frowned, her eyes clearly worried. But she must have decided not to push it, because instead of arguing she just said, “Okay. Well, you know you can talk to me about anything if you need to. Have a good night, Dally.” And with that, she left him alone again, alone with his loathsome self and his loathsome thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's in-character dialogue? I've never heard of it!
> 
> (Real talk there's probably a LOT wrong with this, but that's NaNoWriMo for ya! December is when we edit this bad boy, so that's when we'll be cookin' with gas!)


	3. Chapter 3

Doug was sitting on his bed, his arms crossed, simmering with frustration. He had told Granny he was sick, which he felt bad for lying about, but he felt like if he didn’t get away from all the people and the noise then he was going to blow up. And that was not him- he wasn’t like some people.

It was probably near to 9 PM when there was a knock on the door followed by Granny poking her head in. “Hello dear. I hope you’re feeling better.” She pushed the door open farther to reveal she was holding a plate of simple, plain rice balls. “Something light on the stomach. Do try to eat even if you’re not well. You know you need to keep up your strength if you want to get better.”

He relaxed. “Thanks, Granny.” She left the plate on the table by the door and he rubbed his arm awkwardly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It was no problem, Doug!”

“But you had to close up and everything… I can make myself dinner.”

She laughed. “Oh no, Dylas came by and helped close for you.”

He gasped. “What? _Dylas_?”

“Yes,” she said with a nod. “He asked me to wish you well, too.”

He didn’t answer. Granny didn’t notice his discomfort and simply continued, “Oh, I'm so happy you two are starting to get along!”

“Hah! 'Getting along'?”

“Well, yes! Frey told me she saw you two talking the other day after your little swap. And I'm so happy that-“

“I don’t know what she said, but Horse-Face and I are not getting along. I apologized for what I said and he just brushed me off!”

“Oh, now Doug, you know he’s not good with words. He probably doesn’t know how to say it.”

Doug sighed. He knew she was wrong. And besides, it wasn’t just this time. Dylas was always like this, and it was more about how fed up he was with it. It was about how there was a moment when he had thought things were going to be different. And now what was Dylas doing coming around? Did he think Doug wouldn’t realize the game he was trying to play?

When he didn’t respond, Granny frowned and patted his shoulder in reassurance. “Eat your dinner so you feel better,” she soothed before walking out the door.  
He did eat the rice balls, and he did enjoy them, but even something like good food couldn’t help him get over this. He decided he would have to put this to rest once and for all.

\----

It was drizzling the next morning and the shop was inevitably slow because of it. Frey made her normal Wednesday morning purchase of seeds and made some boastful small talk about her recent crop of radishes and how Doug needed to look out because she was “definitely crushing him tomorrow”- which came like a slap to the face since it was at that moment he’d forgotten the harvest festival was even on its way- and Doug kicked himself later when he realized that he forgot to ask her how the curry came out. It was just past 10:30 when he got the courage to ask to slip out on Granny again.

“Yo, Granny?”

“Yes?”

“Do you mind if I go quick… run an errand? I just remembered I have something I have to do.”

She chortled. “Oh ho ho! Thinking you might find a way to salvage those sad cucumbers at the last minute?”

With a- hopefully- convincing laugh, he said, “Yeah, you caught me.”

“Alright, run along. I’ll mind the store while you fetch Jones to do some resuscitation on them.”

“Very funny,” he muttered while slipping out the door. He ended up practically running the entire way to the restaurant and was happy to see it was just as empty as the store had been when he got inside. Dylas was standing over a table and taking the order of one of the few patrons in the building. He was in the middle of explaining the toppings on the seafood pizza when he happened to glance up and see Doug. At that, he interrupted himself. “Oh. Are you feeling better?”

Doug stomped over and reached up, giving his shoulder a hard shove. “Give it a rest, you bastard! Where do you get off?”

Dylas looked completely taken aback. “What the hell was that for?!”

“I'm not stupid! Stop coming by the shop and playing innocent!”

He bristled in response, his already towering frame arching up like a scared cat. “I only came and helped out while you were sick, Pebble-Brain!”

“Oh uh-huh, sure, 'cause you think I don’t know what you're doing!”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Dylas growled.

“You come by, make a whole joke out of my job, and then go around telling people it was so easy behind my back!”

“What?! Damn it all,” he pointed sharply at Doug’s chest. “I already told you, I-“

“You didn’t tell me anything!”

“Because you keep interrupting me, you idiot!” Dylas had been shouting already, but with that he had been loud enough that he bet it was enough to wake up Clorica all the way at the castle. If the restaurant had been packed they would have been attracting quite a crowd and it seemed Dylas didn’t care anymore.

Doug simply matched his volume. “I don't need to hear what you have to say anyway! I know what you've been saying and I'm sick of you playing dumb! I don’t want to see you around the store ever again!”

Dylas was shaking with rage and erupted, “Why would I want to come over there anyway! I hate having to come by and see your shrimpy face!”

“_Don’t call me a shrimp, you horse_!”

“My, my, my…” Suddenly Porcoline’s voice was beside them. They both had been so focused on the other they hadn’t seen him approach, and now were startled by him shaking his head dramatically with each tut of his tongue. “I thought you two were past this! You boys leave me no choice but to give you _that_ punishment after all-“

Porcoline wasn’t even halfway through his little threat when Dylas went red- maybe from embarrassment, or maybe from effort to hold his tongue- and turned on his heel to run up the stairs to his room. Doug huffed. “What, you're just gonna run away?!”

“Now now,” Porcoline said sharply. He looked sternly at Doug, who got ahold of himself long enough to remember that he still wasn’t interested in finding out what “that punishment” was and finally clammed up.

Porcoline continued, “Why don’t you eat something- the perfect way to calm down- and then run along?”

The patron at the table beside them, who looked pale as a sheet, piped up, “Well actually, uh, he never finished taking my order…?”

Porcoline laughed. “Well that will not do! Doug, go have a seat and I will-“

Doug shook his head. “Thanks but no thanks,” he sighed harshly. Really he wanted to follow Dylas and tell him off a little longer, but whatever. He’d said his piece and was sure Dylas got the message. And he’d told Granny he wouldn’t be gone that long anyway. He stalked out of the building and made his way back to the shop. He’d done what he came to do. It was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot Doug only works at the shop on Tuesdays and Thursdays, oops... So uh, I guess this is an AU where he's not lazy haha?


	4. Chapter 4

There was some concern around Selphia that the rain would continue throughout the Summer harvest festival, but luckily by sundown the sky had cleared and the next morning Dylas had woken up to bright rays of sunlight streaming through his bedroom window. He had fumed through the night but found that a good night’s sleep had put things into perspective. He’d lost his cool again, and that was on him. And as enraged he’d been from Doug’s accusations the morning prior, he realized now that this was actually a relief. Trying to be friendly with Doug had felt wrong for a reason- Doug wasn’t worth his time.

This had been a setback, but he was going to just shake that one off. Today was actually a festival he was interest in, and he wasn’t about to let himself waste more emotional energy on this stupid argument. It had already gotten way out of hand as it was.

The good news was that the restaurant had been, for the most part, empty at the time. So the rest of that day it seemed nobody had heard about what happened outside of Porcoline. He had assumed Doug wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut and would have complained to anyone that would listen, but it didn’t seem like that was the case.

When he came down the stairs, he connected eyes with Porcoline. He was sure he’d get an earful, but it seemed the festival day was first on his mind. “Good moooooorning,” he sang. “Are you as ready as moi for all the deliiiiicious veggies?”

“Y-yeah, pretty excited.”

“I promise to save you a few carrots,” he said unconvincingly.

“Sounds good, thanks for that.”

Margaret and Arthur, who had presumably been chatting in the other room, popped their head in the room at the sounds of their voices. Arthur waved politely. “Oh, good morning Dylas.”

“Hey.” He still wasn’t the best at reading people, but just as he had expected that hadn’t sounded like the judgmental greeting of somebody who had heard about his and Doug’s second big fight in one week. Dylas breathed a tiny sigh of relief and continued, “You grow something good this time?”

Arthur chuckled. “Not so much. Maybe next time.”

Margaret nodded. “Yeah, no worries Art! There’s always next season! That’s what I'm counting on too,” she added with an embarrassed chuckle.

Porcoline, who was chomping at the bit, cut in. “Well! Shall we all head to the town square to get an early peak at the produce, mes amis?”

Arthur nodded. “Yes, let’s. The weather is quite nice, so best not to waste the daylight.”

They had to pass Serendipity General Store on the way and Dylas pointedly avoided looking at the building. None of the others noticed, but then they were cheerily talking rather than really paying him any mind. That was good, because he really wasn’t in the mood to talk about what had happened.

They rounded the corner and before them was row upon row of displays of vegetables- in some spots there were large tables with giant sized melons and tomatoes and all other manner of vegetables- there were some blatantly out-of-season yams on a display nearest them, which were a bit on the sadder side in terms of coloring- but there were also some rows of what appeared to be market stalls where people’s less than prize-worthy crops were on sale for all residents and visitors to peruse through and purchase.

Vishnal, Clorica, and Frey were chatting near their displays across the square. There was a radish that was bigger than any other radish Dylas had ever seen on the center table, which he was all but certain had been grown by Frey. And Frey was pointing to Clorica’s large, almost just as astounding carrot with one hand and holding Vishnal's hand in the other. “Look, these would be perfect for our next recipe, don’t you think?”

“B-but Princess, do you really want to waste such wonderful vegetables on me?” He clenched his free hand dramatically. “No, I'll only ruin them!”

“Aw, Don’t worry Vishnal,” Clorica soothed. “You are going to do just fine.”

“Right! And besides, half of cooking is getting the right ingredients, and I just know some nice, fresh veggies like these are just what you need to get it just right!”

Vishnal blushed. “Well, thank you Princess. And you too, Clorica.” He hesitated, took a deep breath, and then nodded firmly. “Alright! After judging, we are going to make the best curry ever! I’ll call it Perfect Summer Festival Curry!”

Frey laughed. “Very creative!”

Vishnal, obviously missing her sarcasm, simply beamed. “This will be the one! I can feel it!”

Dylas found himself smiling while listening to the three. Vishnal wasn’t kidding about working on his cooking. He almost walked over to talk with them about it, but stopped in his tracks when Doug appeared beside Clorica with an obnoxious smile on his face.

“Yo, Vishnal, Frey, what’s up?” He elbowed Clorica. “So? You ready to pay up?”

Clorica looked back at him proudly. “No, in fact- I think it’s time for you to pay me.”

“Oh please! Vishnal,” he called out. Vishnal jolted and Doug continued, “I hear you’re learning how to make Curry?”

He gulped. “Yes, that’s right. I’m… I'm going to keep working at it!”

“Hah, yeah Clorica. That sure sounds like somebody who didn’t destroy yet another dish.”

Of course at that all of the color drained out of Vishnal’s face and Clorica sighed. Lying hadn’t been enough to combat Doug, so she went with plan B. “I never agreed to your bet. I don’t owe you anything.”

“Boo!”

Dylas had heard enough. He turned and saw Leon was eying a particularly large but lopsided pumpkin nearby. He went to stand next to him and gave Leon a small “hey.” Leon didn’t answer right away, but when he did he pointed at the pumpkin and grinned. “This one is getting my vote. It’s so ugly- how perfect.”

Dylas chuckled.

Leon continued, “Which is yours? I assume you grew… a carrot?”

Dylas shoved his shoulder playfully. “Shut up. I came to win, so I grew more than just a carrot.”

“Hmm.” Leon smirked. “Three carrots?”

Dylas rolled his eyes and walked down the row of displays, examining and in many cases mentally congratulating the many different entries. Leon followed after him. “So you aren’t going to get my vote unfortunately, but I suppose you've got a definite vote from your new best friend?”

“Who would that be?”

Leon gestured behind him. “The little redhead back there. Word is you two are… how did Vishnal describe it? 'The bestest of bros,' I believe?”

“Hah! Didn’t think he understood sarcasm. Good for him.”

“Oh, sounds interesting. Let’s hear the story.”

Dylas sighed, still ambling along the many different displays. He supposed that talking with Leon wasn’t as bad as explaining himself to the others. “Not much to tell. I yelled at him, I apologized, then yesterday he stopped by again to start something all over again.”

“So… same old same old, it sounds like?”

He huffed. “I thought it was different this time, but it turns out… yeah. 'Same old same old.’”

“Hm. So Vishnal’s little scheme ended up not working out after all.”

Dylas nodded, but then stopped in his tracks. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“You know, the job switch.”

“I didn’t realize… that was Vishnal’s idea?”

“Mm-hm.” Leon bent down to look at a group of wilted cucumbers and declared, “I’ve changed my mind. These are definitely getting my vote.”

Dylas ignored him. “Why? Why did he come up with that?”

“I told you- to help you become 'the bestest of bros.’ Now come on- check out these awful cucumbers with me.”

He didn’t- without a word he made a beeline back toward Vishnal and the others- Doug was still there and his eyes widened when he say Dylas approaching, but Dylas just pretended he wasn’t there. “Vishnal.”

He yelped before stuttering out, “D-Dylas! I'm s-sorry about the other day, a-at the lake- I didn’t mean to-!”

“I'll do it.”

Vishnal and the others were all silent. “You’ll… do it?”

He stepped closer to Vishnal and stuck out his hand as if closing a deal. “Yeah. I'll help you learn how to cook.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus an actual plot appears! This was a long time coming and I thank you all for your patience.


	5. Chapter 5

Vishnal's mouth was agape. “You will? Really?”  
Doug pushed forward in between the two. “What the hell are you two talking about?!”

Dylas was still refusing to look at him- petty as always, the bastard- and ignored him completely on top of it. “Yeah, I will. Name the time and place, and I'll ask Porcoline to give me time off.”

Clorica smiled serenely. “That's so great, Dylas.”

“Well, you may need to ask off a few days,” Frey said with a laugh, to which Vishnal turned toward her dramatically and let out a long defiant sigh.

Dylas shrugged. “As long as it takes.”

“What, you asked him to be your teacher? What a damn waste of time!” Doug shouted.

“Doug, stop that,” Frey admonished. “Vishnal needs all the help he can get!”

“Princeeeess, you’re not helpiiiiing,” he moaned.

Doug looked up at Dylas who wasn’t even trying to hide his little lop-sided smirk. He could see how frustrated he was making Doug by yet again cutting in to his life and was loving every second of it. First he decided to make a mockery of his job, and now he was going to screw with his friends? Doug ignored Frey's words and turned to Dylas now. “Why would they even want your help anyway? You’d just get in the way!”

“Better me than you- are you even tall enough to reach the counter?”

“_Shut the hell up!_” Doug shouted, and without even thinking he shoved Dylas. Hard.

Frey grabbed Doug by his collar and yanked him back. “Stop that right now, damn it!” Dylas looked ready to kill Doug, but when Frey whirled him around she was wearing a face of extreme malice that easily matched him. Of all the people to give him that look, seeing it on Frey had to be the worst.

Vishnal was bouncing around with manic energy and seemed just as concerned that the next festival would be Doug’s funeral and kept repeating “Princess, it’s fine” in a tiny panicked voice.

Frey ignored him. “What are you doing, Doug?”

“What am I doing? Dylas is the one who-“

“He just came by and offered to help!”

“He’s only doing it to mess with me, because he was listening in on us and wanted to get under my-“

“Please, Doug!” Vishnal was the one interrupting now. “I asked him to help, that’s all! That’s the only reason he came by!”

Doug looked between Vishnal, Frey, Clorica- who had managed to fall asleep again despite the commotion- and finally to Dylas. At the very least he wasn’t smirking anymore. Doug faltered for a moment, suddenly worried that he perhaps had overreacted, but he shook those doubts from his mind. He wrenched his collar out of Frey's hand and after righting his coat muttered, “Well whatever. Vishnal, don’t expect him to actually help you. He doesn’t care about anything but causing problems for other people.”

“That’s rich coming from you, you lazy bastard,” Dylas snapped.

“Hey!” Frey was yelling at Dylas now. “You lay off too!”

Vishnal's face was that of somebody trying to completely disappear. “If- if it’s a problem you don’t have to-“

Frey grabbed his hand tightly. “No, Vishnal! You have been working so hard every night trying to get this down- I know you can do it if you just have the right teacher, and Dylas is really good!”

“Oh please,” Doug said with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s true,” Clorica said, taking them by surprise to see her awake. “Remember, Dylas won our last cooking contest. He would be perfect.”

“Dylas can’t cook and more importantly he can’t teach! I can’t believe you’re even considering this!”

Frey sighed harshly and began, “Doug-“ But Dylas cut her off with an extended hand. Doug glared at him, but Dylas was pointedly looking at Vishnal and refusing to make eye contact with Doug. “Look, if you don’t want me to help, I get it. I'm not a good teacher. But I am a good cook.” There was an emphasis on that last sentence. “I want to help because I do care. If you think I don’t do a good job then I will leave you alone.”

Vishnal looked touched, which annoyed Doug. He threw up his hands in exasperation. “You know what? Fine! But don’t say I didn’t warn you when this bastard is in there making fun of you.”

Still not even looking at him, Dylas responded, “Oh yeah, since it’s not like we didn’t all hear you making fun of him earlier.”

“That’s not the same and you know it!” Doug yelled. “Vishnal and I are friends!”

Clorica smiled up at Dylas. “Dylas is our friend too, though.”

Doug scoffed. Frey and Vishnal were nodding, but why? Dylas was always a jerk and never spent time with them outside of festival days when there was nothing else to do but mull around in the town square. The fact that they all somehow thought _Doug_ was being the bad guy made his blood boil. Even Frey had sided with Dylas over him, which was like being punched in the gut twice. He wanted to scream but what good would it do? And besides, he knew the kind of person Dylas was, so he knew that it was only a matter of time before they realized he was right about him. He’d have to restrain himself from saying “I told you so” when that day came.

He swallowed back his comments and just said, in the calmest, most measured voice he could manage, “Sure. Whatever.” He knew another second around Dylas would break his resolve to let this go, so he turned on his heel and walked away.

He pushed past a group of tourists chatting with Arthur, who greeted Doug with a small wave. Doug mumbled, “Yeah, hey,” but didn’t bother stopping to chat. He was spent already, and didn’t need to stick around any longer. His entry wasn’t about to win anyway, and judging wasn’t for a few more hours. So was he just going to stick around just to watch himself lose? And if he had to watch Dylas even come close to placing today, after all of that, he would probably lose it. No, he was just going to go home. If they wanted to spend time with Dylas then fine. There was no point in arguing against it.


	6. Chapter 6

Vishnal had told Dylas to meet him in the castle's atrium at 10 AM the next morning to give him enough time to finish his morning tasks. When Porcoline came down the stairs and saw him chopping vegetables- all picks from the festival the day before- he jolted. “Dylas! I thought you had your date today?”

“Not a date, and it’s not until 10. So I can still help open up.”

Margaret poked her head around the doorway to the office where she had been cleaning. “Wait, is that why you’re not working today? You’ve got a date?”

“It’s definitely not a date!”

Arthur called out from the office, “Congrats on the date, Dylas. I'm so happy for you both.”

“It’s not a date! I'm meeting up with Vishnal!”

“Aww, you’re dating Vishnal?” Margaret laughed.

Porcoline gasped animatedly. “Does Frey know?!”

Dylas shook his head and just focused on chopping. “Okay, ha ha ha, you’re all hilarious.”

Margaret skipped over. “So you’re spending the day with Vishnal?” Dylas nodded. She grinned and went on, “That’s so great! I hope you both have a lot of fun!”

Porcoline grabbed Dylas’s free hand. “And whatever you do, don’t you dare break his heart!”

“I have a knife, you know.”

Arthur came in the room, presumably having finished re-straightening the office. “Alright, everyone, let’s leave him alone.”

“You're right,” Porcoline sighed, releasing Dylas. “I would never want him to lose his nerve on his first date ever.”

Margaret shook her head with a small smile. “Porcoline,” she half-sang, half-scolded. She turned back to Dylas. “What is your plan for the day?”

He shrugged. “He wants some help cooking so I-“

“You are passing on my teachings?!” Porcoline interjected. “_Magnifiiiiiique_! But you will have to make me look good, then.”

“Wait, what?”

There was a gleam in his eye and he continued. “We must collect the finest ingredients, the best veggies… Come! We need to go into the storeroom!”

Margaret bounced on her heels and agreed, and before Dylas could say anything either way the two had grabbed his hands and dragged him into a quest for just that.

\--- 

The atrium of the castle was as quiet as always these days. Dylas normally avoided it at all costs but Vishnal spent every day in the building so the dark memories of this room had probably long since become a distant memory for him. He had to have his back to the center of the room and stare out at the town square lest he lose his composure.

It was still nearly 20 minutes to 10 when Vishnal ran in from the fields, his quick footsteps echoing around the large, empty room. He jumped when he saw Dylas. “Oh! You’re here!”

Dylas turned, still trying to avoid thinking about how lonely the room felt without Ventuswill there. It had been over a year, but seeing the hall like this even now made his stomach turn. He shrugged it off as best as he could and muttered, “Yeah, well knowing you, I knew you’d be early so-“

“Oh no! You weren’t waiting a long time, were you?!”

“Only four hours,” Dylas chuckled. Vishnal leapt out of his skin and before he could apologize Dylas cut him off. “A joke. Here, should we start?” He raised the bag of ingredients and shook it.

“What is-?”

“Nothing special, just some herbs and such. Courtesy of Porcoline.”

Vishnal had stars in his eyes. “Wow! Well I promise not to let you down!”

“Don’t stress about it. Come on.” Dylas led the way, even if he wasn’t exactly sure where the kitchen was. But anything to get out of this room.

Vishnal rushed after him and reached out his hand. “Here, let me hold that for you!”

“No, it’s fine. Can you get the door?”

“Oh! Right, yes, I'm sorry!” With that Vishnal ran ahead and pulled the first door open, which Dylas practically ran through. Vishnal blinked, “A-are you okay?”

_No, not really._ “Yeah, just excited to start.”

Vishnal beamed. “Yes! Me too!”

It was lucky that Vishnal was about as quick on the uptake as he was and just took him at his word on that one. Dylas cracked his neck and set the bag of ingredients down on the counter.

“What did you bring?”

“Well, yesterday you and Clorica were talking about trying to make curry, so I thought we’d try that again.”

“Really?” He clapped his hands together. “That’s great! Curry is my favorite- my mother used to make it for us, so it always reminds me of home!”

“Well, mine probably won’t be as good as hers, but this is an easier curry to start with.” Dylas opened his bag for Vishnal to see the carrots, onions, and broccoli inside, as well some fresh ginger, garlic and basil. “We’re gonna be chopping all of this up first. Do you like tofu?”

Vishnal tried to not react strongly, but his face still betrayed him. “Sure, tofu is fine,” he lied.

“Ha. Okay. This time, we skip the protein. I’ll catch some fish next time and we’ll do… hmm, maybe a panang curry?”

“Pan-panang?” His eyebrows shot up. “I’ve never heard of it.”

Dylas was absently washing his hands in the nearby sink. “Well I'll need some different ingredients, but yeah. I found a recipe for it in one of Porcoline’s cookbooks.”

“Aww, do you look up recipes often?”

He shrugged, drying his hands on a nearby towel. “I guess? Anyway, we need to get set up. You go ahead and wash your hands while I get out some pots.” Vishnal complied and Dylas continued while looking through the cabinetry, “I was thinking I can do each step and then you can watch me and do it yourself after. Would that work?”

“Oh yes, of course!”

“Great. Well I brought enough for the both of us so we’ll have enough Curry for… probably everyone in the castle when we’re done.”

Vishnal dried his hands and then turned to see Dylas taking the vegetables and spices and dividing them between the two cooking stations he’d set up, each with a pot, a pan, and a cutting board. He reached into the bag again after he was done and produced some soybeans. “So good news, we don’t need these, so you’ve got some free soybeans. You wanna put them away somewhere while I get the coconut milk set up?”

Vishnal gasped as he took the soybeans. “Coconut milk?! How much is in that bag?!”

He looked into the bag again. “Mostly just stuff to ferment the soy milk. But you’ve cut out a lot of steps since you don’t care for the stuff, so-“

“I'm so sorry! And after you went to all of the trouble to get it, too… W-we can make tofu! It’ll be good to learn!”

“Hey, it's fine. Tofu can be a lesson for another day too. Okay, so let’s start with those vegetables since we've gotta get them cooked first.”

He walked Vishnal through setting up the pan for the cooking, and Vishnal repeated every step back at him with a sorta frantic twinge to his voice. And when the pans were ready and the heat was on- ever so lightly- he grabbed out two knives, the one of which Vishnal took gingerly in his left hand.

Vishnal watched enraptured as Dylas chopped the carrots. “It takes practice to get this fast at it,” he mumbled. “It's fine if you need to slow down, but always remember to curl your fingers back.”

“Right!”

Dylas lifted the cutting board and scraped the uniform slices into the now lightly simmering herbs in his pan. “Alright, your turn. Remember, take your time and don't cut your fingers.”

“Right!” he repeated. Vishnal moved deliberately- _very_ deliberately- clearly taking “take your time” to heart. Dylas watched as he slowly cut each slice as if composing a masterpiece. He sorta admired his determination. He waited until Vishnal finished the final slice and presented them to Dylas proudly. “Well? What do you think?”

He’d still somehow, even after taking probably the entire day just on this one step, managed to make each slice lopsided and not the same width. But Dylas just smiled back at Vishnal. “You are really serious about being a cook.”

“Yes, it's a very important skill for a butler! What kind of butler would I be if I don’t ever learn how to cook?”

“You’d be a pretty sorry one, I guess,” Dylas laughed. “And you did a good job, but next time we'll have to work on your consistency.”

Vishnal's face fell. “Right…”

“Hey, you're doing good. Did you slice your knuckles?”

“No!”

“Great. So you’ve passed. Throw those in the pan and we'll move on to the onion.” He almost suggested chopping everything else himself while Vishnal got his done, but swallowed that comment back. He did make a mental note to turn down the heat when he wasn’t looking so that their carrots wouldn’t be reduced to mush.

Vishnal did as he told but then paused. After a moment he turned to look back at Dylas. “You said you weren’t always a good cook?”

_Yeah, but never this bad either._ He shrugged. “Nobody is born a good cook.”

“So how did you realize you had a passion for it?”

Dylas laughed. “I mean, I don’t know if I’d say I have a passion for it.”

“Really? But you light up when you’re talking about it! Like when you talk about fishing!”

Dylas blushed. “Do I?”

“Yes!” Dylas looked away and Vishnal said, “Hey, that’s nothing to be ashamed of!”

Dylas didn’t say anything. He knew it wasn’t, and saying he was a good cook- hell, one of the best cooks in the city- he had no qualms about saying it. But somehow saying he was passionate about it… he didn’t know why, but it made his stomach turn to even think of it.

Vishnal blushed too and turned back to his cutting board. “I-I’m sorry. Yeah, let's move on to the onion.”

Dylas sighed. “You’re fine. Thanks… for… y’know.”

“Y-yeah, of course!”

\--- 

Dylas pulled the pot, now billowing dark black smoke, off of the lit stove. “I think it’s done,” he said in between coughs.

How he’d managed to turn the meal into charcoal, Dylas wasn’t sure he’d ever know. He’d been following along carefully and clearly doing his best, but while looking at what nobody would ever believe was supposed to be curry, he realized that Doug was right- and he did not like having to admit that- but Doug had been right and it was like Vishnal was literally programmed to ruin food.

Vishnal was slumped against the wall, his face buried under his raised arm that was pressed against the wall above his head. “I’m so sorry! You worked so hard and brought over all of those herbs and I just wasted them!”

“You didn’t waste anything!”

“Just look at it! I wasted your ingredients and your time!”

Dylas huffed. “Look, sometimes you burn food. It happens.”

“I _always_ burn food…” Vishnal moaned.

“Yeah, well we just try again next time!” Dylas realized he had yelled that and cleared his throat. “Maybe we need to try a simpler food. How do you feel about rice? We can make a simple rice dish next time and work out way up.”

Vishnal sniffed. “You think I can do it?”

“Definitely. And if not, we just try again.”

He stood up, his face still clearly unsure. “You don't mind taking so much time on me for this?”

“I told you, as long as it takes. I owe you that much.” Vishnal scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, so Dylas explained with a shrug, “Leon told me that you were the one who came up with… what was it called, 'operation best bros'?”

Vishnal's face fell. “Lot of good that did. I think I just made things worse.”

“Nah. We did have a moment where things were better, but we're both to big of jerks to let it stay that way.” Dylas looked back at the two dishes, both sitting side by side. “So some of it didn’t really… come out, but maybe we should go ahead and eat? If we don’t, then we really will be wasting it.”

“You don’t have to pretend mine is good… just throw it out…”

Dylas ignored him and took a spoonful. He mulled over the flavors, taking extra care to try and taste past the char. “I mean, if it hadn’t burned, it would have been good.”

“Really?!”

“Sure. We’ll toss it out this time, but next time we make curry we’ll get to eat yours for sure.”

Vishnal looked about ready to cry. “Okay! Yeah! Together we can do it!”

Dylas smiled and ladled the curry- his curry- into two different bowls. “Come on, let’s eat before it gets cold.”

Vishnal took the bowl happily. He was clearly excited for what was to come, and Dylas had to admit he was too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How obvious is it that I don't know anything about cooking? "Why write a cooking subplot when you can't cook" you may be asking, and to that I say with arms crossed, "because shut up," haha.


	7. Chapter 7

It was another boring day at the store and Doug had ended up having a long, pointless conversation with Leon for most of the morning. “So you really think you would be able to do it?”

“I’m not saying I would want to, but if it came to it? Sure I could take Bado on.”

Leon shook his head and clicked his tongue. “I don’t know, he’s got about two feet and 200 pounds on you…”

“Okay, come on, that’s uncalled for,” Doug huffed.

Leon was about to respond when Meg slammed open the door. It smashed against the wall and her eyes locked into Doug. He was about to ask her what the hell was going on when she pointed at him and shouted, “You!”

Leon smirked. “Hello to you too, Margaret.”

She ignored him. “Doug! It’s swamped at the restaurant and with how great you did last time, would you please come and help? Porcoline said he would pay you twice the normal rate!”

Leon cut in again, “Twice the normal rate? Amazing. I’d even be willing to help for that amount.”

Doug ignored him too. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Of course not! You were a big help before, and an entire class of students checked in to the inn unexpectedly this morning, and the restaurant is swarming with more tourists than Porcoline, Arthur, and I can handle! Please, we will pay anything to help us through this!”

Hearing Meg beg for his help was payment enough as far as Doug was concerned, but some extra gold never hurt either. “Tell you what- we can decide payment later. Let me go up and fetch Granny so she can mind the store while I'm gone.”

Meg practically leaped a foot in the air in excitement at that. “Oh, thank you so much, Doug! I'll run ahead, so just meet us all there when you’re ready and we’ll get you waiting tables!” And as fast as she had burst in, she bolted out the door.

\--- 

After the last batch of students finally finished fawning over Arthur, who was either too polite to shoo them away or too excited to be talking about his work that he didn’t realize it wasn’t his research they were interested in, they left the restaurant and Doug collapsed on a loveseat in the office with a groan. “They were charming.”

Arthur nodded empathically, not catching on to Doug’s sarcasm. “Yes! They seemed very enthralled by my recent anthropology work, too- good to know the local university has instilled such an interest in knowledge to our youth.”

Doug didn’t have the heart to say anything to the contrary. Meg seemed concerned that he would, though, and suddenly changed the subject. “So Arthur, anything new for you lately?”

“Not particularly. I know things have been a bit eventful for you, though, haven't they?”

She giggled. “We’re still only sending letters is all.”

“Who?”

“Meg and her girlfriend.”

Doug's head whipped over to her. “You have a girlfriend? Since when?”

Meg blushed. “Well, it’s hard to say. We first met last spring when one of Porco's relatives visited- I think she was a cousin? Maybe an aunt.” She thought for a moment but then waved her own hand dismissively, as if telling herself to move on. “Anyway, their maid came with them and she was an elf!”

“Whoa!” Doug said, sitting forward. “Small world!”

She nodded. “Well, she’s a dark elf really, so we’re not from the exact same place, but we got to talking about the Elven Kingdom and our experiences since leaving. Well, actually we only talked a bit then, but I could tell she wanted to talk, you know? So before she left I told her to write me. I thought we were just pen pals, but when she came back at the start of the year again… I don’t know, we decided to spend some time together, and our meetings turned into dates and the next thing we knew…”

Doug whistled. “How long was she in town?”  
“Well, not long. She has a lot of work she does and it was hard enough convincing her to stay longer than a week.”

“So but you’ve just been long distance since?”

“Well, yes, but we write each other constantly!”

“Sounds like more trouble that it’s worth of you ask me.”

Arthur scolded softly, “Now Doug…”

Meg pardoned him with another small wave of her hand. “It is hard sometimes, since I do wish I could see her more often, but you know what they say- absence makes the heart grow fonder!”

He wasn’t quite sure that had always been his experience, but he shrugged. “Yeah, whatever. So but what’s her name?”

“Maerwen! It turns out that there are no other elves where she lives, let alone dark elves. So she’s never said it, but I think she felt a connection when we met.”

“You _think_?”

“She’s a bit… introverted. Oh, but she really is sweet! I'm trying to convince her to visit again, and when she does you should come by to meet her! I'm sure you would love her.”

Arthur nodded. “We only met briefly while she was here, and we did have a brief discussion about book recommendations. She seemed shy, perhaps, but I would love to get to know her better.”

“But you've gotta… 'convince' her to come?” Doug asked.

“Like I said, she has a lot of work to do and is very dedicated. She can only come when she’s able to get somebody to cover her.”

“Huh.” Doug thought that over. Not that he had any experience, but he couldn’t imagine a relationship like that ever being able to work. But it wasn’t really like he had any place to judge.

“So what about you?”

“Sorry?”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

Doug laughed. “Nope, can’t say that I am.” _And why don’t we leave it at that_, he added in his head.

But Meg was not a mind reader. “Oh. Well is there anyone you’re interested in?”

_Yes_. “No.”

She made a face that he wasn’t sure how to read. For a second he had a somewhat paranoid worry that maybe she _was_ reading his mind, but she quickly smiled politely and said, “Well I'm sure you’ll find somebody soon.”

“Ha. Yeah, thanks.”

What she didn’t need to know was that he already had, but it wasn’t good sport to go after a girl who is already with another guy, least of all when that guy is your best friend.

“…Can I admit something?”

_Damn. Here we go_.

She didn’t wait for him to give her the go ahead. “You’ve seemed in a really bad mood recently. Over the past few months I mean. I might be wrong, but I sorta assumed you were upset about… you know… Frey and Vishnal.”

Doug laughed, an actual genuine laugh, only not for the reason she probably assumed. He thought he did a good job hiding it, but she’d seen right through him. Hearing her just say it was like some sort of cosmic joke.

Luckily Meg only blushed brightly. “Oh, okay, so I guess I was wrong.”

_No_, he thought, _you were right. But that ship has sailed_. “Yeah, sorry to disappoint you.” He stretched back onto the loveseat. “Unlike you, I haven't been so lucky.”

“At least things have been better between you and Dylas,” Arthur shrugged. “That’s something, isn't it?”

He blinked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed. What made him think that? And more importantly, what the hell was he doing bringing that up now?

When Doug didn’t respond, Arthur quietly added, “Not that I'm saying you should date him or anything.”

Doug snorted. “I would rather die.”

Meg sighed. She was thinking something but kept it to herself. Instead, she stood up and extended her hand to Doug. “Well anyway, thank you for your help, Doug! Any time you are free and want to lend a hand you can.”

“Yeah, sure.” He shook her hand and then stood up himself. “I guess I should head back in case, since Granny’s back there alone. But if you need help just let me know. Preferably a day Dylas isn’t here.”

Arthur pulled a face, no doubt confused due to his belief that the two of them were somehow suddenly friends. He had no idea how he was that misinformed, though. Hadn’t Dylas surely complained about what had happened either at the restaurant or at the festival? Either way, Arthur didn’t ask what he obviously wanted to ask and instead simply nodded politely. “Sure. Will do.”

Doug waved and left. The entire walk home to the store he thought about Meg's words before. Now that he was really thinking about it, she was right that he’d been more irritable ever since Frey and Vishnal got together. He had been proud of himself that he hadn’t made a big deal out of it, but he had, hadn’t he? Not to Frey or Vishnal, but this whole time he realized he’d been redirecting his anger onto Dylas- somebody who it was okay to let it out on. How did he not see that? And how could he have been so immature?

He rounded a street corner, shaking his head. No, this wasn’t just him. Dylas was the one starting things each time, he made sure to remind himself. So maybe he’d let it get to him more than it should have this time, but he wasn’t getting into these fights with him for no reason. Dylas had it coming every single time. This wasn't just him grasping at straws for reasons to blame Dylas and it wasn’t like they suddenly started fighting this last Spring.

By the time he got back to the store, he’d managed to almost completely make himself forget his epiphany and get right back to blaming Dylas for everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this is still a Doug/Dylas fic, but when I said "slow burn" I meant it!


End file.
